It Is What It Is
by Rachel Wilder
Summary: Deacon deals with the ramifications of the accident and the impact on the lives of all the people he cares about - an alternative version of season 2.
1. Chapter 1

_Many thanks to KarenES for her excellent beta._

* * *

"Claybourne," the guard's voice called out as the door slid open in front of Deacon's cell. The guard walked up and stood there as Deacon sat up from the bed in the corner of the small cell. "C'mon, get your stuff."

Deacon looked over at the book he'd been reading, the toothbrush sitting on the edge of the sink and stood up. "I'm good," he responded, as he cradled his left arm against his body.

The guard stepped back and waited as Deacon walked out of the cell.

"What's going on?" Deacon asked.

"Hell if I know," the guard replied. "But it looks like someone finally bailed your sorry ass out of here."

* * *

Deacon pulled the cotton T-shirt over his bandaged hand, then gingerly pulled it over his head. His broken ribs ached with the pain he didn't think would be going away anytime soon. He tried to tie the string holding the waist of the cotton pants they'd given him, but without a functional left hand, it didn't do him much good. Hopefully they'd stay up long enough to get him wherever he was going.

When she'd come in yesterday, Scarlett said she was trying to get bail together-Deacon didn't want to think what she might have had to do to raise that kind of money. Not that he wanted her to do it-right now there was one place he deserved to be and it was in that cell.

He followed the guard down the hall into the reception area. They had him sign his name and then sent him out the door. He hadn't even worried there might be press outside until he heard them shouting his name-he squinted against the sun, not sure which way to turn, until he felt a firm hand on his shoulder.

"C'mon, Deacon-she's waiting in the car for you."

He looked up to see Bo, Juliette's bodyguard standing next to him. Juliette. Of course. He nodded and followed Bo down to the car waiting at the curb.

* * *

The door closed behind him and Bo quickly slid into the driver's seat and pulled them away from the clutch of paparazzi. Where they just sitting out there in case he'd be released or had someone given them a tip? He started to ask Juliette, then just sighed.

"You didn't have to do that," he said after they'd ridden in silence for a few minutes.

She shook her head. "Yeah, I'd like to say I did it for you, but that's not the truth."

Deacon sighed and laid his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes.

"You know, my mama, she fell off the wagon a lot when I was growing up. There were lots of times I needed to have her around, looking after me," Juliette said. "Like when I was 13 and my other parent was gone-I needed her then."

Deacon half opened his left eye, fixing it on her. "What are you talkin' about Juliette."

"Thirteen. It's a hard age-hard for a girl to not have her parents bein' adults and…"

"What the hell are you talkin' about, Juliette? You don't…"

Juliette turned to Deacon, fixing her stare on him. "I was at the hospital with Maddie. I saw Rayna. She told me what happened."

"Rayna's awake?" Deacon sat upright.

Juliette shook her head. "No, Maddie told me-Maddie told me what you found out, that she's your daughter."

"I'm nobody's father," Deacon spat out.

"The hell you aren't," Juliette responded. "You have a responsibility to a little girl who I know you care about, who thinks that she started all of this, who doesn't understand yet how demons can haunt a person and turn them into someone they'd never even recognize. I know you're hurt and you're suffering and Rayna screwed you over and lied to you, but that little girl, she thinks this is all her fault and that's just bullshit, Deacon Claybourne."

"Let me out," Deacon said quietly. "This is not your problem, Juliette."

"No," Juliette replied. Bo had pulled over and put the car into park. "I'm not letting you disappear down into this dark hole again, Deacon. So, here's what we're gonna do-you're going into that hospital and seeing a doctor about your hand and getting whatever surgery you need to fix it up so that you can keep playing music. Then you're gonna go get yourself cleaned up again. And somewhere in the middle of all of that, once you can be a decent person, you're going to make sure that Maddie understands that none of this was her fault."

Deacon raised his right hand up to his mouth. He thought he might be sick, right there in the car. He had been thinking of everything else-of the lie, of the betrayal, of Rayna's broken body when he pulled her from the truck, of his hand, his broken dreams, the loss of his fragile hold on sobriety.

He'd never thought about Maddie and what this must be doing to her.

"I'm not a father," he said again. "I don't deserve to be anybody's father."

"I don't believe that," Juliette replied. "I think you're a sorry S-O-B who has a lot of faults, but you're not the only person in the world who struggles, Deacon. So stop feeling sorry for yourself and take some responsibility. Sure, we'd all like things to be different, but you know what? It is what it is."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

_Many thanks, again, to KarenES for the beta and to Beth Pryor for once again teaching me about all things medical._

* * *

Deacon sat on the exam table staring at the wall. The nurse had said a doctor would be in shortly, but that had been almost 45 minutes ago. Juliette had wanted to wait with him, but he just couldn't deal with anyone right now.

He could have done with a shower, though. He looked down, the blood still caked on his right hand, his left wrapped in a makeshift bandage. It felt like the accident was a hundred years ago, but it had been…it had been maybe 48 hours.

Thirteen years of sobriety. Thirteen years of Rayna keeping the truth from him. It didn't even take thirteen hours for him to throw it all away. It was the unluckiest of numbers.

The accident was a blur. A blur of words, and then the world tumbling around them and then the silence of Rayna not saying anything. He knew he'd pulled her out of the truck, but then as soon as the police and ambulance had pulled up, he just hadn't been able to say anything.

It wasn't a conscious decision to say that he was driving. Everyone just assumed it and next thing he knew, he was in that cell, waiting.

It didn't matter that he hadn't been behind the wheel, he'd caused all of this to happen.

He looked up as the curtain was pulled open and a tall man in a white shirt and tie walked in.

"Mr. Claybourne?" he asked as he approached Deacon, holding out his hand.

Deacon nodded and reached out to shake the doctor's hand.

"I'm Joe Bush, the orthopedic surgeon. Miss Barnes had them call me in. Can I take a look and see what we're dealing with here?" the doctor asked.

Deacon nodded again, words failing him. He held out the injured hand as the doctor pulled up a stool and began to unwrap the dressing.

"You injured this two days ago?" the doctor asked as he pulled away the last of the dressing, exposing the torn skin on Deacon's hand.

"Uh, yeah," Deacon replied.

"And you're only coming in now?"

"Yeah," Deacon responded. He didn't have the energy to explain it all over again, plus if this guy watched the news, he knew what had happened and what had detained Deacon from seeking medical attention.

The doctor held Deacon's hand, palpating the injured areas. "We need to get a set of films on this, but it looks like you've got a pretty major wound here. We're probably looking at a tendon injury, maybe some nerve damage. Your friend says you're a musician, right?"

Deacon nodded again.

"Well, you're lucky you have such good friends-cause I might be the only doctor who can save this hand."

* * *

Deacon slowly opened his eyes, a haze washing over him. It took him a minute to realize that he was now in a hospital bed. He looked over to see Scarlett asleep in the chair next to him. He looked down: His hand was wrapped now in a new thick, clean dressing.

After the exam and x-rays, Dr. Bush had said they'd have to get him into surgery and see what they could do. His guess had been pretty accurate. He'd said there was definitely a torn tendon and they'd know more about the nerves once they got in there.

Deacon tried to straighten up in bed, groaning as the broken ribs moved, sending shooting pain down his side. He looked over to see the IV pump next to his bed.

He had warned the doctor about his addiction issues the first day in the hospital.

_"I understand, Deacon," Dr. Bush had said as he stood next to Deacon in the exam room. "But this is going to hurt and we need to manage that pain. Right after surgery, I'm going to need to have you on a PCA-a pain pump, but we're going to work with you and make sure that we manage your pain without exacerbating your other issues. I need you to get better and in the short-term, that's going to require us to give you something for this pain."_

_"I don't do very well with morphine," Deacon responded. "And I'm way too fond of Oxycontin."_

_"We've had some good luck with IV Tylenol alternating with IV Toradol. Neither are opiates. We could try that and see if it helps you enough and if it doesn't, then we can talk about trying something else."_

__He watched the clock tick down on the pump and felt the medication wash into his system. Then before Scarlett even knew he'd been awake, he fell back into a deep sleep.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

_As always, thanks to KarenES for giving this a read and Beth Pryor for making sure I don't make any major medical errors._

* * *

The second time he woke up, Scarlett was gone, but Juliette had taken his place in the chair next to his bed. And she wasn't asleep.

"How you feelin'?" she asked.

"Like shit," Deacon responded. He didn't have the energy for niceties. "How's Rayna?"

Juliette stood up and crossed over to his bed. "They've got her in a drug-induced coma. Something about giving her brain time to rest and heal."

Deacon nodded, wordlessly. He wanted to ask more, but he wasn't sure it was his place.

"Maddie?" he asked.

"She's been here, sitting with her mama," Juliette replied. "She knows you're here too."

Deacon looked down at his hand and sighed. "I don't think...I don't think I can see her."

Juliette took his uninjured hand in hers. "I get that. You're gonna have to talk to her eventually, you know, but you don't have to do it now. The surgeon said it looked pretty good in there-he had to do a lot of repair, but he didn't think there was any nerve damage."

Deacon closed his eyes. He had destroyed more than his hand. And it was going to take a hell of alot more than Juliette's surgeon to fix that.

"You know she's blames herself," Juliette said, quietly.

Deacon looked over at her. "What?"

"Maddie. She thinks that all of this is her fault because she went looking for the truth and then all of this happened-you drinking, the accident. She blames herself."

"That's just crazy," Deacon replied.

"Crazy or not, that's what she's thinking the truth is," Juliette replied.

They both looked up at the sound of a knock on the door. It was Joe Bush, the surgeon.

"How are you feeling, Deacon?" he asked as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Not too bad," Deacon responded. "Pain isn't too bad."

"Good, just remember to tell us if it gets too bad. When we get you down to therapy, we're going to want to make sure that you're using adequate pain management to be able to participate to the fullest extent."

He laid a small splint down on the bed. "I'm going to take that bandage off, check the sutures and then we'll put this splint on. It's going to allow you some movement in the wrist, but will protect the tendon area where we did the repair. It will also keep your wrist and fingers bent slightly to keep the stress off the repair. We're going to have you do a session of physical therapy today and then be ready to discharge you this afternoon. PT sessions will be scheduled for you every day for at least the next two week."

"What's the timeline on this gettin' better?" Juliette asked.

The doctor looked up from Deacon's hand, where he was removing the bandage. "We're looking at about two months with the splint and therapy, then maybe another month until you can use the hand with any force. It's going to depend on you, Deacon. Using the splint and doing your exercises are the greatest predictors of a successful outcome."

"And what are the chances of that," Juliette asked. "Will he be able to play guitar again?"

Dr. Bush pulled the last strap around the splint and stood up. "I can't make a definite prediction. We've been improving our results all the time, with improved surgical and therapeutic techniques, but these injuries can be very challenging to treat. It's possible that you may end up with stiffness after the injury heals and it's also possible that we may have to go in and do a second surgery to remove scar tissue if that becomes a concern.

"But, I don't want you to focus on that-I want you to focus on spending time listening to the therapist, doing the exercises that they give you and letting that hand heal. Can you do that for me, Deacon?"

Deacon nodded, looking down at his hand, now encased in a white plastic splint. "Thanks, Doc."

The doctor gave Deacon a pat on the shoulder, shook Juliette's hand and turned to leave. "Hey, I'm still building my reputation-so believe me, saving the hand of one of Nashville's greatest guitar players is definitely on my priority list. Take care of yourself, Deacon and I'll see you next week."

"I'm going to call Scarlett quick and let her know you're coming home today," Juliette said as she pulled her phone out of her purse. "I think she's planning to stay with you for a while."

"She doesn't have to do that," Deacon said quietly.

"Actually, she kind of does," Juliette replied. "You have one good hand, you can't drive and well...she and Gunnar hit a bump, so I think she's looking for a reason to get out of Dodge for a while."

"You seem to know a lot about me and my family these days," Deacon said, a small smile threatening to cross his face.

Juliette looked up from her phone. "I know-definitely time to get myself focused back on me. So, get your shit figured out, Claybourne."

Deacon smiled for real this time. He was almost starting to feel human again. Maybe that was Juliette giving him grief again. Maybe it was the relief that maybe he hadn't ruined his hand or that he was getting out of here…

He looked up as there was another quiet knock at the door. It was Maddie.

* * *

_So, I'm a little at a lost about this story-I started it while waiting for season 2, but now that it's actually airing I'm not sure about continuing a parallel story. Rest assured, I'll wrap this up, but would love your thoughts about whether or not I should take it much further. - RW_


	4. Chapter 4

_Many thanks to KarenES and Beth Pryor for looking at this. I appreciate your on-going support for the story and my writing._

* * *

Deacon had heard about that phenomena of your life flashing in front of your face. Maybe it had happened when he and Rayna were in the truck, when it was rolling and he was too drunk to remember, but as he sat on the edge of his hospital bed facing Maddie...facing his daughter, he felt like his whole life just played like a movie right in front of his eyes. He fingered the edge of his hospital gown, pulling the robe that Juliette had brought him closed.

Except, it wasn't his whole life-it was just those parts where he knew there had been another path that he could have taken, a path that would have brought him to a completely different place than where he sat right now.

"Hey," he said, quietly, not sure what else to say.

Maddie didn't move from the edge of the door. Deacon gestured to the chair next to his bed.

"You want to come in?" he asked.

Juliette picked her purse up from the table next to Deacon's bed and put it over her shoulder. "I'm gonna go out and make that call and then I'll check back in to see if you're ready to go. There's clothes in the bag I left you over there." She pointed to the small duffle bag, then stopped to give Maddie a quick hug and walked out the door.

"Are you leaving?" Maddie asked, her voice small and quiet.

Deacon nodded. "Uh, yeah. They're letting me go home today."

He wanted to ask about Rayna, but he also didn't want to put Maddie in that place of being the go-between. But if he didn't ask about Rayna, he wasn't sure what to say.

"Does it hurt?" she asked, taking a step into the room. She paused halfway between the door and the chair.

Deacon nodded again. "Yeah, it hurts, but the doc thinks it will probably get better." He looked down at his hand, covered in the splint and then after a moment looked back up at her, a tear escaping his eye before he could reach up to wipe it away. "I'm really sorry about what happened-I'd never...I'd never try to hurt your mom. Or you."

"But you were drunk?" Maddie asked.

Deacon sighed, then nodded. "I was. I...I reacted poorly and I had a drink."

"You reacted? You mean, cause of what I asked you? What I found?" Maddie asked, her voice breaking.

Deacon stood up and held out his hand. Maddie paused and then took it as he guided her over to the chair to sit down. With his good hand he pulled the chair across from the bed and then sat down where he had started, this time facing her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't say that quite right," Deacon replied. "It wasn't about what you told me. Here's the thing-when I drink, when I choose to drink, it isn't about what anybody else does to me or says to me. When I drink, it's because I make the decision to break a vow that I've made to myself, my sponsor, my friends, the people I love-so no, that isn't your fault. That's on me, darlin'."

"But why?" Maddie asked, a sob catching in her throat. "I heard my parents fight about it once, but you've never done that, never been drinking, not in my whole life."

Deacon reached over and took her hand in his. "You're absolutely right, Maddie. I had never taken a drink in your whole life; as long as you've been around is pretty much the whole time I'd been sober."

"Can you stop?" she asked, looking up at him, her eyes also filling with tears.

"I pray to God. I hope so," Deacon replied, unable to stop the tears himself. He reached over and took a couple tissues from the box on the table, handing one to Maddie and then wiping his eyes with the other one. "You think you can give me another chance?"

Maddie nodded. "Does that help?" she asked.

"People like you believin' in someone like me is the only reason I've gotten this far, as it is," Deacon answered. "I still gotta do it for myself, but yes, you believin' in me makes a difference."

He looked up to see Juliette standing outside the door.

"You here with someone?" he asked.

Maddie nodded. "My aunt Tandy brought Daphne and I up here. Daphne wanted to sing to Mom for a little bit, but I told them I had to get something to drink first."

"Well, you better get back down there before they worry that you lost your way," Deacon replied.

"You gonna come see my mom before you go?" Maddie asked quietly.

Deacon didn't respond for a moment, not trusting his voice.

"You should go see her," Maddie responded. "I know she'd wonder where you were if you didn't."

Deacon nodded. "I'll see what I can do. You go find your aunt and Daphne, now. And you tell your Momma I'm...just tell her that I'm here."


	5. Chapter 5

_I am really enjoying season 2, but also kind of enjoying exploring this slightly different version of it. Thanks, as always, to KarenES and Beth Pryor for their careful eyes._

* * *

Deacon buttoned the last button on his shirt and stood up from the hospital bed, holding his injured limb close to his body. It helped with the pain to keep it elevated.

"You should use that sling they gave you," Juliette said, gesturing to the dark piece of cloth on the bedside table. "Let me help you?"

Deacon didn't protest as she helped him slip it over his head and put his hand into the sling.

"You're gettin' better at that," she commented.

"At puttin' a sling on?" he asked.

Juliette shook her head. "Nah, takin' help from someone. Might become a nasty habit if you don't watch out," she teased. "Now, let's get the boots on."

She kneeled down on the floor and helped Deacon guide his right foot into his cowboy boot, pulling it up over his heel and then his jeans back down over it. As she moved over to do the same with his left, Deacon sighed.

"I'm thinking I better send Scarlett out to get me some of those slip-on boat shoes, or I'm gonna be sittin' around waiting for her to put my shoes on and off every morning and again at night."

Juliette leaned back on her heels. "Nah, maybe we just get you some of those ankle boots with the zippers instead. No need to go completely out of fashion."

Deacon stood up and reached over for the now empty duffel bag Juliette had brought over that morning. He opened the drawer and quickly emptied out the few things he'd had at the hospital during his stay. He slid his wallet into his back pocket and looked at his phone for a moment before sliding it into his front pocket.

"So…" Juliette started.

"Yeah?" Deacon asked as he looked sideways over at her standing by the door.

"You just want me to take you home, or do you want to find a meeting, or anything else?" she asked.

Deacon picked up the filled duffel bag with his good hand and stood quiet for a moment. "I think I'd like to go to a meeting, if that's okay. And, uh...I think I'd like to meet you downstairs in about fifteen minutes if that's okay, too."

Juliette nodded. "Of course. And she's in room 1061."

* * *

Deacon felt a sort of cold calm wash over him as he rode the elevator to the tenth floor. He got off and followed the signs to the trauma ICU. He knew that he didn't belong there, yet he also knew that leaving the hospital without seeing her was the wrong thing to do.

He wondered who else might be there, if the girls were still visiting with Tandy. What would he say to them? What if Teddy was there? Or Lamar?

He paused in the hallway, remembering the last time he'd seen Rayna in a hospital. He'd come to find her the night of her dad's heart attack and bypass surgery. He had known that coming to find her was the right thing that night, had felt that she needed him. This time he had a feeling that he needed to come, but he couldn't tell if it was because she needed him or he needed her.

He walked slowly toward her room, pausing again outside. A nurse came up to him.

"It's just family, sir," she said, her hand on his arm.

"It's fine," a woman's voice answered behind them.

Deacon turned to find Tandy standing there, a cup of coffee in her hand. She walked toward the door to Rayna's room, then stopped and turned back toward him.

"Come in for a minute, Deacon."

He followed her into the room. The curtain was pulled, protecting Rayna from being on view to the hallway. He followed Tandy around the fabric, then stopped, unable to move any further as he saw her there on the bed.

She was unconscious, a tube in her throat. There were IVs and wires and a monitor with a steady beep indicating her heart rate.

"Is she? Will she wake up?" Deacon finally said.

Tandy looked over at him from the chair where she sat next to Rayna's bed, holding her hand. "They are keeping her asleep while her brain heals. She hit the window and it caused her brain to bleed."

"And the tube?" Deacon gestured toward the breathing tube in her mouth.

"They have her on the ventilator while the medication is keeping her unconscious," Tandy explained. "She was breathing when she got to the hospital."

"Good," Deacon replied.

Tandy looked over at him and shook her head. "Deacon, I don't know what the hell my sister sees in you and I have no idea what happened that got us here, but I know that she has always loved you, even when she probably shouldn't have. And I know this was an accident-that she was driving. But I swear to God, if she dies…"

"No, I get it," Deacon responded. "I should…" He gestured toward the door.

Tandy stood up. "You have a minute, but then you probably should go. Daddy usually comes about fifteen minutes from now and I don't think you want to meet him up here."

As she walked past him to the door, Deacon reached out to touch her arm. "Thanks, Tandy."

She stopped and turned back to him. "I sure didn't do it for you, Deacon. Maddie said you might come down here; that I should let you come see Rayna. I don't know why she was so insistent, but she seems to think that it's what Rayna would want."

After she left, Deacon walked over and sat down in the chair Tandy had previously been using. He reached over and ran his fingers over Rayna's hand. She was warm; felt alive.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," Deacon said, quietly, as he lifted his hand up to touch her cheek. "I know we need to figure stuff out, but Ray, I need you to come back so we can have that conversation. Please don't leave it this way."

He stood up and leaned over, kissing her on her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin and watching her chest rise rhythmically with the mechanical breath going in and out of her body.

She had to come out of this.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks to everyone who is still reading and especially for the reviews. I love hearing what you think. As always, thanks to Beth Pryor and KarenES for helping me make the story be the best it can._

* * *

Scarlett pulled the her Volvo station wagon up in front of Deacon's house and turned off the engine.

"Thanks for picking me up," Deacon said as they sat there. "And...well, thanks."

Scarlett looked over at him and smiled. "I'm glad you're home and thanks for lettin' me stay here with you a bit."

Deacon looked down at his hand in the splint and then over at Scarlett. "Looks like we're both gonna need to be helping each other out."

They got out of the car, Scarlett pulling Deacon's bag from the back and headed toward the house. As they got to the porch, Deacon stopped.

"I'm really sorry about what happened the last time we were here," he started. "I know it probably doesn't make a lot of sense to you right now, but I will tell you more, it's just right now…" Deacon's voice trailed off.

Scarlett put her hand on Deacon's arm. "You tell me when you're ready. Cause I'm here to listen. I won't push you, unless I think you need it."

"Thanks, Scarlett."

* * *

Deacon woke up in his bed to find the daylight gone. He brushed his hand across his face and looked over at the clock. It was nearly 8 P.M. He had slept for almost six hours. Part of him thought he should just go to sleep for the night, but his stomach had rumbled and his hand ached. He needed to get something to eat and take another of the pain relievers the hospital had sent home with him. It didn't take all of the pain away, but so far he had been able to manage with the drugs that Joe Bush had recommended and stay away from the opiates.

There was a knock at his bedroom door.

"C'mon in," he said, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Thought you might like a little soup," Scarlett said as she walked through the doorway carrying a tray. "Got your pills here, too."

"Thanks," Deacon said as he sat up in bed. "Although, I'm not an invalid. I could come out there and eat, too."

"You should rest now," Scarlett said. "You're gonna be back at the hospital tomorrow for therapy. They've got the intake appointment set for 9 A.M."

Deacon ate a spoonful of the soup. "Thanks-this is good."

"There was one other thing," Scarlett said. "Maddie Conrad called earlier when you were still asleep. She wanted you to call her."

Deacon set the soup spoon down next to the bowl. "Did she...did she say what it was about?"

Scarlett pulled Deacon's phone from her pocket and put it on his bedside table. "No, just to call her when you could."

Deacon's eyes strayed over to the phone on the table next to him. After a moment he looked back up at Scarlett. "Thanks. Uh, can I just have a couple of minutes…"

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Scarlett apologized. "Just let me know when you need me to come get the tray."

Deacon watched Scarlett close the bedroom door, then picked up his phone. He'd have to tell her about Maddie before too long, but first he'd better return this call.

He pushed the power button and then navigated to the recent call list. He paused over the number-it wasn't Rayna's home number, so must be Maddie's cell. He hit the info button and then the next to add the number as a contact. He typed her name in-it all made it feel more real.

Deacon took a deep breath and pressed the call button. The phone rang once, twice, three…

"Hello?" It was a quiet, young voice.

"Maddie? It's Deacon."

There was a quiet pause-he could hear her on the other end of the phone, though. Seemed like neither one really knew how to talk to the other.

"Maddie?" he asked again.

There was a quiet sob, then her small voice again. "She woke up, Deacon. I just...I just wanted to make sure you knew."

He drew his breath in, wanting to ask her everything, but afraid of what she might say. "Is she...how is she?"

"She's...she's asking for you," Maddie replied. "Will you come?"

"Maddie…" he started.

"Please, Deacon-can you please just come?" she asked again.

Deacon closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

He ended the call and set the phone back down on the bedside table. He sat for a moment until there was a quiet knock on the door.

"Can I come in?" Scarlett asked from the other side of the door.

He told her to come in and directed her to sit down in the chair near his bed.

"Rayna's awake," he started. "Maddie said she's asking for me."

"Oh," Scarlett responded. "You want me to take you down there?"

Deacon started to nod, then choked as a sob began to escape. Scarlett got up and came over to sit next to him on the bed.

"Deacon," she started. "She's awake-it's going to be okay."

He nodded again as the tears continued to flow down his face. "I don't know why she'd do that, why she'd want to see me."

"Do you want to tell me?" Scarlett asked quietly. "Cause, I'm here-and I love you, Deacon. You can tell me, no matter what it is."

Why was Rayna asking for him? And what would it all mean between them? Would his action that almost destroyed them physically be an even payment for what Rayna had done? Could he...would he forgive her.

"I'm gonna tell you, Scarlett. Honest. I'm gonna, but now I think we've gotta get down there and see...I gotta see Rayna for myself and make sure she's really okay."


	7. Chapter 7

_Thanks for reading and sharing your reviews! As always, many thanks to Beth Pryor and KarenES for their on-going support of this story and my writing._

* * *

Deacon walked off the elevator on the 10th floor of the hospital and looked down the hall, not sure what he might find. He looked to the left and saw Teddy sitting in the waiting room with Daphne and Maddie. He looked grim. Deacon paused, then turned right and headed toward Rayna's room. As he walked up to the door, Tandy came out.

"Thanks for coming, Deacon," she said, her voice strained.

"Yeah, of course, I mean, Maddie said she was askin' for me and Maddie sounded-she sounded funny on the phone," Deacon replied. "I didn't-I guess I thought I'd be the last person she'd be askin' for when she woke up."

Tandy sighed and brushed her hair back with her hand. She looked more tired than Deacon could ever remember seeing her.

"She's asking for you-only you. It's almost like she thinks you're still together," Tandy explained.

Deacon shook his head. "What do you mean? You mean she doesn't remember the accident? The CMAs? About Maddie?"

Tandy shook her head. "No, I don't think she remembers any of them. Teddy. The girls. She was very upset and confused when they came in earlier. Deacon, Rayna just kept asking for you."

Deacon backed up against the wall in the hallway and dropped down into a crouch. He hadn't been able to say out loud how afraid he was that Rayna wouldn't wake up, but after he got Maddie's call, he had been so relieved. He'd never expected this.

"Deacon, can you go in there?" Tandy asked, interrupting his thoughts. "She's pretty agitated and she wants you."

"Yeah," Deacon replied, as he stood back up. "But what are they saying? Is it? Will she be like this?"

Tandy shrugged. "They don't know. It could be the head injury, it could be the trauma of everything y'all went through before the accident, it could be a fluke. They don't know, Deacon."

Tandy followed him as they walked the rest of the way down to Rayna's room. They paused outside the door.

"Just try to keep her as calm as you can," Tandy instructed. "They don't want her getting too agitated and they don't want her talking. They took the tube out of her throat, but we have to be careful-it could hurt her voice if she doesn't take it easy and let her throat recover from the trauma of the intubation."

Deacon nodded that he understood, then pulled the door open with his good hand and walked into the room.

She looked like she had the day before, except that awful tube was gone from her mouth. Her eyes were closed and she seemed peaceful. He crossed over, sat down in the chair next to her bed and took her hand in his uninjured right hand. He rubbed his thumb gently over the soft skin on her hand and her eyes opened up.

"Don't talk, darlin'," he told her. "The doctors want you to be really careful and take care of your throat and voice."

"Where were you?" she asked.

He reached his hand up and smoothed her hair back. "I'm right here now, Ray. Now get some sleep and we can talk tomorrow."

She nodded and closed her eyes again, her breathing quickly growing even.

Deacon looked up as Tandy walked back into the room.

"She's already more calm," Tandy observed. "Can you...will you stay?"

"Of course," Deacon replied. "But what about the girls? And Teddy?"

"I'm going to send them home," Tandy explained. "The doctor said we should talk tomorrow and I don't know, maybe they'll have some more answers for us? But for now, I just need to make sure that Rayna is okay."

Deacon looked down at his hand folded in Rayna's. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

* * *

Deacon stood in the corner behind the chairs where Teddy, Tandy and Lamar sat in front of the doctor's desk.

"It may be a retrograde amnesia," the doctor explained. "It's pretty rare and I think we can hope for the best that it's related to the trauma of the accident and will resolve itself pretty quickly."

"And if it doesn't?" Lamar asked. "What do we do then?"

"Rayna will need some therapy to recover from her injuries. We'll get her started on physical therapy to deal with the trauma from the accident and from the time she was in a coma. We'll also begin with occupational therapy that will work with her memory issues."

"Are you saying she'll never remember our daughters?" Teddy asked. "Nothing about our life together?"

The doctor looked down at Rayna's records and back up at the anxious faces across from him. "I'm very sorry, Mr. Conrad, but it's as I said-the brain is a mysterious thing. It can confound and amaze us all at the same time. Your wife, Ms. Jaymes, she will know her children, but whether or not she's able to regain those memories of their childhood is still just something we don't know."

Deacon cleared his throat. "Uh...so, what...what can we do to help Rayna?"

"We need to be supportive, Mr. Claybourne. No matter what else is going on with all of you, right now you need to meet Rayna where she's at, not confuse her and agitate her. For now, I'm going to recommend that we limit her visitors to those who she does remember-her father, her sister and you, Mr. Claybourne. There will be time for her to learn more about her life, about the children, but for right now we're just going to try to limit the stimulus that will challenge her brain and create anxiety for her."

"So what do we tell my daughters?" Teddy asked. "They want to see their mother."

"And they will, Mr. Conrad. We just need to give it a day or two. I'm going to suggest that we bring one of our Child Life specialists up here to talk with the girls and try to explain to them what is happening. I think that it's important for them to understand what's going on with their mother, but we also need to make sure that we aren't unduly frightening them."

Lamar slammed down his hand on the desk. "Just figure out what the hell you people need to do to help my daughter. No matter the cost."

"Daddy!" Tandy called out as she put her hand on her father's arm.

Deacon shook his head, then turned and headed out of the office. He'd heard enough of the medical stuff-what he needed was to see Rayna. That would tell him more about what she may or may not be able to do.

* * *

"Deacon?"

Deacon turned from where he had been waiting outside Rayna's room to find Maddie standing there.

"Did they tell you what's wrong with Mom?" Maddie asked. "Last night-last night she didn't know who we were."

Deacon pulled Maddie toward him, into his arms. "I know it's scary, honey, but your mom is tough. She's gonna be okay." He ran his hand over her hair as she continued to cling to him.

"Honey?"

Deacon looked up from Maddie to find Teddy standing there. He loosened his embrace and Maddie turned to Teddy.

"Hey, honey-I need to talk to you and Daphne," Teddy said. He looked over at Deacon and shook his head, then led Maddie back down the hall to the waiting room without saying another word.

Just like Teddy, Deacon thought as he turned to head into Rayna's room.

She was still asleep. The nurse had said that they needed to make sure that she was maintaining a level of consciousness, but that with the head injury, she would also just need a lot of rest and calm to recover. He walked over and sat down in the chair, again. He'd slept there next to her last night, not letting go of her hand.

He looked up at the sound of a knock at the door. It was Scarlett.

"Thought you might need some clothes and things. And I brought your pills," Scarlett said as she walked in the room and set the small bag down next to Deacon's chair. "How's she doing?"

Deacon shrugged. "They don't really know. We'll have a better idea when she wakes up today, I guess."

"Deacon?"

Deacon and Scarlett looked over to find Rayna's eyes open. Deacon stood up and moved over next to Rayna's head.

"Can...can…" Rayna paused to clear her throat.

"Let me call the nurse, Ray," Deacon said. He reached over for the call button next to her bed.

"I should go," Scarlett said. "I'm prayin' for you, Rayna." Scarlett reached over and touched Rayna's hand before she turned to leave.

As the door closed behind Scarlett, Rayna reached for Deacon's hand. "Who?"

Deacon wasn't sure what to say. He didn't want to confuse her, further, but then Rayna would have to learn all of this eventually.

"We can talk about it later, Ray. Look, here's the nurse." He turned to the nurse who had walked into the room.

"Good to see you awake again, Ms. Jaymes," the nurse said. "I'm going to call your doctor, but I can also get you a cup of ice chips, if you want to try that."

Rayna nodded.

Deacon hadn't been sure what to expect when Rayna woke up. He couldn't tell if it was the throat issue that was making her communication so stilted or maybe it was something more dire-was the problem bigger than just her memory?


End file.
